


King of Spades, Ace of Hearts

by lorielen (culuyetille)



Series: Malfoycest extravaganza [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Malfoycest, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-28
Updated: 2003-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/culuyetille/pseuds/lorielen
Summary: Lucius has doubts about the rightness of his and Draco's relationship. Draco wipes them away with loving kisses and something more...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy
Series: Malfoycest extravaganza [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117862
Kudos: 2





	King of Spades, Ace of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Me 'gain. Time to lay the cards on the table and show whatcha got, at least for our two favourite Malfoys. A complex relation such as an incest doesn't go without much pain and musing from both sides. Now that the initial fire is gone, it's time to settle down and think about things. Face your own emotions. Malfoys were never good at dealing with these, as far as I know. So you guess, much angst ahead! Have fun. Oh, read 'You Know You Want To' before this, or else you'll feel a bit lost.  
> Lorielen

Draco was worried. Really worried.

His father had been acting awkward since that incident at the library. Draco's shoulder was still healing, the mark of his father's teeth still showed on it.

The youth's fingers brushed against the small scar as he pulled his pyjama's shirt on. Once finished with buttoning it, Draco lazily lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head, then brought both hands to rub his eyes. Catching a glimpse of his image on the mirror, he was struck by how childish he looked. The messy hair and oversized pyjama might contribute, but the truth was that he was still very young.

_A Malfoy at age sixteen is fully capable of standing on his own, and I'm seventeen already._

A small voice on the back of his mind whispered that he could not do on his own.

_I need Father with me... in more than one way._

It had been four days since his father had last... touched him. And Draco missed it.

Not that Lucius was avoiding him, not at all. He had even taken time off from his work, and was spending Christmas vacations at the Manor. Mainly in the library or in his office, seating on the sofa with a good book, having Draco's head on his lap and stroking the youth's hair. Giving him loving, wet kisses, tender looks and smiles, endless soft caresses. All of them chaste.  
It was driving Draco mad.

_Is it something I did?_

He didn't think so.

_If he won't come to me, no reason I can't go to him._

He could always try to corner his father and get the man to tell him why was he doing that, why was he torturing his son, why was he denying Draco.

He sighed.

_I can't do that._

Since the incident in the library, Draco had decided never to ask. If Lucius had opened up to him, it was greatly owed to him knowing that his son wouldn't judge him. Draco didn't intend to lose that trust, he didn't want to push his father.  
But the distance was becoming unbearable.

Turning on his heels to leave before he could change his mind, Draco grabbed a robe and directed his steps to his father's office.

-*-

When he got there he found Lucius bent over a pile of papers on his desk, seeming very busy. He closed the door, not speaking, waiting for his presence to be acknowledged.  
Which didn't take more than a few seconds.

Lucius lifted his head, and Draco felt his heart warm up at the sight of the smile playing on his father's lips. He watched as Lucius took his reading glasses off, and obeyed the move of the hand that indicated that he should approach.  
Draco's steps didn't make a sound against the furry carpet as he quickly crossed the distance between himself and his father, watching Lucius pull his chair back and turn to look at him expectantly.

"I've come to say goodnight, Father."  
"Is it so late, Draco? I think I've lost track of time with all these papers." Came the reply, along with a wrinkled forehead and a wave of the pale, long-fingered hand indicating the paper pile.  
"It's not late. I just feel a bit sleepy."

Draco could see his every word being carefully analysed, every trace of his face being scanned for something else. And he knew that, as much as he was considered unreadable among his fellow Slytherins at school, with his father the game was some levels higher. Lucius had mastered the art of putting up a front, and if Draco didn't play with his cards close to his chest and very carefully his father's eyes would pierce through his lie.

_I'm not sleepy, I just wanted to force myself to come and talk to him._

Draco knew that he should need no excuse. He wished he could say nothing if he wanted to and just sit around and watch his father, the way he had always enjoyed doing. But things were different now... even though having spent most of the afternoon laying with his head on his father's lap, with Lucius' hand running through his hair, Draco felt unease around his father. It was the reason he had got up with the excuse that he wanted to take a shower. It was the reason he had been locked up in his room thinking during the last two hours or so. The reason that kept him awake at night... the lack of Lucius. The lack of both his father's company and any explanation at all for why had it been taken away so abruptly.  
And still Lucius played his part stoically, acting as if everything was fine, as if everything was as it had always been between he and his son, before the development of their relationship, before it had been taken to a higher, more complex level.

When he knows perfectly well that it isn't so simple anymore.

Draco wished he could grab his father by the shoulders, shake him and ask him what was going on, why had he put a stop to their nights together. But he knew that he could not, that by doing that he'd just scare Lucius away. So he just starred down at his father, keeping a straight poker face as he had done in front of Lucius during the last four days. Taking care not to show any anger or hurt in his eyes, even though he knew that his father would somehow pick it up in the very air. He had never learnt how to hide things from his father... because he had seldom needed to.

"Hmm. Alright, you can go to your room. I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in bed, Draco, now how does that sound?"  
"I'm on my way."

Was all Draco could say while he turned his back on his father and made it for the door, wanting to quit his father's company as soon as possible, trying hard to swallow down the angry scream that formed on his throat. It was wrong, all of it. All too artificial.  
Why did his father refuse to see the truth?  
Why did his father refuse to love him?

Draco could think only of this as he rushed upstairs to his room.

-*-

Lucius kept his eyes on the door for several minutes after his son had left. His face betrayed no emotion, the way it always did. It was only fair, after all the training, that he was unreadable. No eye laid on Lucius Malfoy would pick up the smallest trace of the tornado that was going on inside him.

As he starred at the door, he saw his son leaving again and again. The lithe body moving ever so graciously, a pale, slender hand sliding over the wood after the rest of the body was gone. Lucius trembled softly at the thought of that hand touching him.

_No._

He bit his lower lip and shook his head as if by doing that he could get rid of the teasing thought, the faint memories sending tingles of arousal down his spine. He could not allow himself to think about it.

_It's been four days._

He could number the hours, the minutes even if asked. Each passing second made the longing burn stronger, eating him from the inside out. He tried to shut it down, tried his very best, but sometimes things would slip. A brush of the fingers, the echo of a wanting moan ripping the barriers to scream at his consciousness the needs of his body and soul. In moments like those, Lucius had only one card to play.

_Think of the eyes..._

He forced his mind to lay before him the image of his son's terrified eyes in the library incident, forced himself to recall all the despair he had felt upon seeing Draco's fear when he had accidentally lost control and hurt his child.

_Never again._

Lucius had vowed to himself that he'd never again approach the line of control loss, of surrendering to sensations and forgetting about everything else. He regretted doing it, he regretted haven even started it at all. He had become dangerously addicted to the pleasure Draco could give him, and would disregard the consequences if he could get just one night, just one more night of his son's tender caresses and loving eyes.

_I did it until it was fear that shone in his eyes instead of love. And I can't have that._

But nothing kept him from continuing showing Draco just how much he cared. Endless kisses and affectionate words and looks; he had even taken time off in order to be with his son.

Lucius chuckled at that thought. _Malfoy silver-tongue can fool me at times._

He hadn't taken the time because of Draco, but because of his own egotist craving for the youth's presence. He dared not call it love, for he thought it to be too selfish a feeling, that could be described simply as need.

Lately, Lucius had spent much time musing over things, mainly his and Draco's relationship and his own feelings. He had forced himself to admit that he was - and had always been - incredibly selfish to the point of maintaining that twisted situation with Draco, putting his boy in danger for the sake of... his own pleasure.  
He'd stop that insanity, he'd restore order to his life. He'd take away the one thing that could make him lose control.

_I'll make it right._

As if it weren't hard enough to shut down his own body's pleas, there was Draco. Not asking, not judging, never condemning, just - just suffering silently.

Lucius knew that his son was confused, knew that he was hurt. But he believed that pain to be infinitely smaller than the one Draco might have to stand if they kept sleeping together. He tried to make it up with affection displays, and hoped that it would be alright.

He rose from his chair and made his way for the door.

Time to kiss Draco goodnight.

-*-

Draco unravelled himself of his robe, threw it to the floor and slipped under the covers, letting out a sigh. He hated it that he could no longer talk to Lucius, could no longer reach his father.

_In spite of all the tender touching, Father seems distant._

He was analysing everything once again to see if he could find something that could explain that behaviour when the door opened to let in the adored figure of Lucius Malfoy. Draco's eyes followed his father as the elder Malfoy made his way to the bed, seating gently by his son, still wearing the same faint smile that had been on his lips during the last days.

Draco wished he could slap some sense into his father and make him quit that strange, unnatural attitude that was all the affection displays, that stupid smile. He wished he could have his father back, that he could have back the Lucius of many words and few, significant actions.

"Good night, son."

And he leaned down to kiss Draco's forehead, lips brushing lightly, a hand removing some strands of the platinum blond hair from the way.

He started to pull back, but was roughly interrupted by Draco, who used a slender hand to cup his face and pull him down, bestowing him a dazzling kiss, sneaking his tongue inside his Father's mouth, desperately trying to reach the Lucius he knew to be somewhere inside that vague shell.  
His father responded to the kiss, which was expected. Draco moved on to the next step: his other hand went to the clasp on his father's belt.

-*-

Upon that Lucius broke the kiss and pulled himself up, back to his seating position. Lips swollen, hair messed, it took him a few seconds to regain his composure and lay reproving eyes on his son.

"Don't tempt me, Draco."

His tone was shaky, and his eyes gazed intently into his son's.

-*-

Returning the look, Draco starred into the greyish mirrors of a tortured soul. And he hated himself for being the cause of it.

"I'm sorry, Father. It's just that-"  
"It's ok."

Lucius said quickly, and turned his back to the youth. He felt like making a dash for the door. He couldn't bare to look into his son's confused, hurt eyes. He could not stand denying Draco anything. He had to leave the room, or...

"No, it's not ok."

He turned around and looked at his son. Draco was no baby. He was a handsome, concerned young man starring up at the troubled father. Lucius murmured something that even he didn't understand too well, and lowered his eyes, forcing himself to think of the eyes, of the hurt eyes, of the fearful eyes... As he starred down his lap a pale hand came to rest on top of his own, and although he didn't look he knew that Draco was seating near him now, wearing that look of worry that fit him so well, that made him so lovely, so easy to talk to, to hold on and just let everything go...

_Do. Not. Think. Like. That._

"Father... talk to me."

That small, slender hand on his own, squeezing reassuringly. Lucius' mind repeated to him what he had learned on their last intimate contact: never again. With Draco it was too easy to get lost in sensations and loose control... and a voice in the back his mind, with all the malice of a joker sneaking his way among the well-organised deck of carts, whispered that he had also learned that with Draco it was ok, it would always be ok. His son would always understand and love and be there for him.

_Guess it's fairly contradictory of me to think so and not talk to him._

Lucius breathed in. His son was no child anymore. He had the right to know why was he being denied something.

"There are reason's we shouldn't do it, Draco. So many reasons..."

He could feel his son's warmth and softness as the youth inched towards him. He also felt at a loss for words, which was highly unusual. Words had always been there for him, to help him find a way out of every situation. The famous Malfoy silver-tongue was failing him, and that was the reason Draco spoke again.

"Why?"

That naive, sweet voice. Lucius sighed, and when he talked it was not his trademark lazy drawl that left his mouth; instead a tortured voice he didn't really remember using before. The words, too, were no longer obeying him. His soul sent to his mouth all the thoughts he had mused on during the torturing last four days.

"When I tell you that no-one is to know, it isn't merely owed to my reputation, Draco. I can stand being hated, it isn't something that I enjoy but it'd be a worthy price to pay for your company. I wouldn't mind being thrown away from society, if it meant that I would get to keep you forever."  
"And it doesn't?" Draco cut his father short, anxiety showing in his voice.  
"Unfortunately no, Draco. I would be thrown in Azkaban, but that isn't the worst part."  
"Of course it is! I'd be apart from you..."

Lucius bit his lower lip.  
So innocent, in so many ways. So seductive, so knowing and yet so naive.

"Draco... do you have any idea of what keeps most Death Eaters, Crouch or even Voldemort from putting their filthy hands on you?" When Draco shook his head, some strands of hair brushing lightly against Lucius' forearm, he proceeded. "They fear my wrath, Lucius Malfoy's wrath on the one that dares to touch his beloved child. Once they know of what we do, I'll lose all the right to punish them for wanting it. Do you understand that, Draco?"

Lucius squeezed his child's hand tightly. What he had just told Draco haunted him, the thought of anyone touching his son, of any other feeling Draco's softness. The very idea gave him nausea, but it was not the main reason he restrained from touching his beloved. The greatest reason didn't belong to outsiders, it lay within Lucius' very heart.  
This heart started to beat faster at the sound of Draco's voice.

"They don't have to know, Father."  
That whispering mouth was close to his ear.  
"We can be ever so quiet about it..."  
Nipping at the sensitive skin behind the ear. Lucius swallowed down, hard.  
"Draco. Please."  
Lucius was surprised at his own tone. Seldom had he begged, never had he put his heart into it.  
Lovely Draco pulled back.  
"I don't understand. Don't you want me, Father?"

Lucius turned his head to gaze into Draco's big, worry-filled eyes. He could not bare to see his son that way. He could torture and hurt himself, but not Draco. He could not stand seeing his son suffer, even less knowing that himself was to blame.

"Draco, it's not that. How could I not want you?" He brought a hand to a tender caress on his son's cheek before continuing. "I just, I feel..." what left his mouth then was a whisper, a word that he had not dared to think even to himself, alone in his bed. A word he dreaded, that haunted him at night and talked of what he did to his son.

"Dirty."

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but his father was quicker. The feelings seemed to cascade, no need to search for words now, no cards in the sleeve, they were all on the table now for everyone to see.

"I stare at your sleeping form for hours and think, what have I done? I'm no better than those horny Death Eaters, I am worse than all of them, it's my son I desire, my little boy I've maculated. I feel ever so dirty, Draco..."

Lucius lowered his head. He was concentrating hard on pushing back down a ball that had decided to take residence in his throat when Draco spoke.

"But you do it nevertheless."

His son's voice was emotionless, and it put Lucius on the brick of despair. As he did whenever he felt under pressure, he talked.

"Yes. How could I not? You're irresistible, Draco." His tone became more dark as he continued. "I do it time and again, and hurt afterwards. I hate myself for staining you, for using you." Pause, and a quicker pace to his speech. "After our last meeting in the library, I got the impression that you do a huge effort to please me. When you said that you were only loud because I wanted you to, Draco, was that I realised the true nature of our situation. You may be fooling yourself into thinking that you enjoy sleeping with me because you know that I like it, I may be goddamn abusing you and you wouldn't know! And then I hold you, or see you sleep, and I feel dirty..." Lucius let his head hang loose again.

Time passed silently. Lucius heard no sound, for both he and his son breathed ever so silently. He closed his eyes, and felt Draco moving behind him, leaving his place near his father. Lucius missed his warmth instantly. Soft sound of feet in the carpet, and he knew Draco to be on the floor. He opened his eyes to see his son seating on his heels in front of him.

"Father... Lucius."  
Draco's tone was imperative, and he took his father's hands.  
Lucius blinked.  
"I am not a pawn, I'm your lover. And it is not dirty, what we do. Love is not dirty."

Lucius found himself holding a strong stare, gazing into those eyes so much like his own, filled with the same cobalt colour, reflecting the same ever-lasting love that shone inside.  
The words echoed on his mind.

Lover...

His kid, his ecstasy. His joy, his desire. His son, his whore. His baby boy, his lover. It hurt to touch him, and it also hurt to restrain from doing so.

That smooth skin...  
_The guilt._  
That soft mouth...  
_The pain.  
_ Those loving eyes...  
_The fear._  
The embodying tightness.  
_The filth..._

-*-

_Father, please. Don't doubt my love._

Draco could see the conflicting, painful feelings and emotions inside his father.

"Father, listen. Since when you caught me in the shower... because that's when it started for you, isn't it?"  
"I don't know, Draco. The longing is so strong that it seems to have been going on since forever."

Lucius sounded tired and lost as opened his eyes to look at him. Draco talked again.

"I know. And for me it kind of does. I've wanted it," he paused and searched for appropriate words to describe what they had, but finding none he proceeded, "for such a long time. But I wouldn't dare acting on it. I feared, Father... I feared you would look at me in disgust."

He held his breath and faced Lucius. He let it out when he saw his father smile, even if somewhat weakly.

"I look at myself in disgust, son. I would never turn away from the beautiful, breathtaking view that you are. I'd never walk away from you, no matter what you did. Anything you want of me, it's yours. I'm yours, and only yours. Don't you ever forget that."

Draco rewarded him with a smile, a luminous smile oozing love and happiness. But before he could ask what he now wanted more than anything, his father seemed to read his mind.

"Anything but that. It's too dangerous Draco... for so many reasons. The outsiders, the pain you may have to go through, the pain I'm going through every single day. I no longer trust myself. I thought that we could be quiet, that you could leave unhurt. See how that turned out."

He extended a hand to touch his Draco's shoulder, a slender finger tracing the scar beneath the clothing. His hand was trembling softly, and it frightened Draco. The youth was scarred at his own power over his father, at how deeply did Lucius' love go, to the point of selflessness, of not wanting to hurt his child in spite of everything he'd get, of the fear of somehow jeopardising their situation, their trust, for some moments of pleasure.

Draco understood it and it scarred him, but he also knew it to be nothing but mere ghosts chasing his father. He wanted those fears to go away, wanted to feel Lucius' fiery love again, and wanted to know that his father was enjoying it every bit as much as he was. And it would not happen until he could expose to his father the true nature of their situation. Not the fake one with pain and abuse involved, but the one Draco saw and felt. The one where everything was enlightened by love.

"I don't care, Father. I honestly don't. This is nothing," he repeated firmly as he took his father's hand from his shoulder, "nothing close to the need. I want you, and I know that you want me. But I don't want to do it just to please you, nor should you do it just to please me. It's not about it, Father, and that's where you're failing to understand."

-*-

Were Draco any other, he'd be in great trouble. No-one told Lucius Malfoy that he failed to understand something.

And no other I restrain from having in fear that I might be hurting them.

"Then what is it about, dear?"

Lucius knew the answer, for it pulsated in his heart, shone in his soul and through his eyes. But he wished to hear his Draco say it. It had always been about words for Lucius.

-*-

"Love, Father. It's a way to show love. I treasure it more than anything for it brings us close... and I want to be close to you."

Held by you, broken into by you, given loving wet healing kisses afterwards, this is what I want.

Draco's hand was brought to Lucius' lips and kissed passionately, although the elder Malfoy never broke the eye contact.

-*-

"Lucius..."  
It was not a languid whisper. It was a plead. It made Lucius' heart squeeze inside his chest.  
"Yes?"  
"Touch yourself."  
"Draco..." he started, but was soon cut off by the sweetest voice.  
"For me."  
Draco looked at him expectantly.

Lucius felt like whining, like screaming, like pulling at his own hair and throwing a tantrum. How could he not do what Draco was asking him to? Or how could he do it, considering that he had lived hell during the last four days in order to restrain from doing it? But Draco was asking ever so sweetly. How could it be wrong, how could it be dirty? Why then did he feel so bad about it afterwards?

Lowering his head in surrender, Lucius allowed his son to take his hands and gently put them on the bed. He allowed Draco to unbutton his shirt, to unzip his pants, to slid them down and out of him, to do the same to his boxers and expose his member. And then Draco caught his hands again.

He shivered when his own hands, covered by his son's, touched his cock. The touch was electric and his body knew nothing of moral and love and dirt, it knew only about Draco's tightness.  
His mouth could not utter a protest, for it was filled with Draco's sweetness, for now all the memories were rushing inside him.  
His eyes couldn't conceive images of pain when his son was smiling so beautifully at him.

They kept their silence, concentrated on the feel, Lucius on the feel of his son's hands and on the dozens of memories his body held from the feel of the rest of his son, his taste, his sight, his lovely smell, the maddening sounds that he'd make.

-*-

Draco focused his attention on watching his father and help keeping a rhythm on the hand movements, even though it was Lucius and not him that was doing the actual stroking. But he could feel it, it was ever so familiar.

Once more the conscience of his power over his father overwhelmed Draco. This time, however, he did not fear but treasured it. He was the one who could light up Lucius' fire at his will. He was the one who could make his father do things he didn't want to, just to rub on his face how much he had been craving for it.

_I needn't do that. I'll be content when Father settles down and just enjoy what we have._

A higher moan interrupted Draco's musings. There had been a few others already, muffled at first, as if Lucius was ashamed. But he soon learned to let go, and the noises he made became repetitive enough for Draco to drift off of them to make plans.

"Are you about to come, Father?"

Along with the tenderness in his voice came the increasing hardening of his own cock at that sight. Lucius had his lips parted, eyes fluttering, fastened breath. Unbuttoned shirt so as to allow view of the quick up-and-down movement of the chest, the hand gripping the mattress tightly, the other hand moving faster and faster bellow Draco's own.

"Yeah."  
Draco could guess how difficult it had been for his Father to utter that single word. But he wanted a different one.  
"Do it for me."  
He made his tone soft and loving, to match what he was feeling. His father's response didn't let him down.  
"Always... dearest."

He smiled his most brilliant smile, but he wasn't sure if Lucius ever saw it. He got the distinct impression that his father's greatest concern right now were the quicker strokes, until he let out a throaty, deep moan.

"Draco..."

Whiteness spilled everywhere, some straps even making it to Draco's face, for his father's cock was at eye-level for him. He looked up at Lucius' heavily breathing form and watched his father lay back on the bed, eyes closed, a smile on his lips.

Draco rose to a standing position and got rid of his clothes before sitting on the bed by his lover.

-*-

Lucius' mind was not a mess anymore. Everything had become crystal clear in a few moments.

_All about love... And love is not dirty._

Therefore, there was no reason for him to feel bad. No reason at all. He could have screamed his happiness out loud, weren't he so out of breath.

"Father..."

Lucius opened his eyes. His son's figure towered over him, for Draco was now sitting, his lovely butt near his father's head.

"Yes, Draco?"

He felt a smile invade his lips, spread all over his face and reach his eyes. He looked more closely at his son, and took in the fact that he was biting his lower lip.

Draco always does so when he's nervous...

The voice that talked didn't give away much of its owner's nervousness. Perhaps it was a bit sheepish.

"You told me I could ask anything I wanted."

Lucius turned on his side and popped his head on his elbow, some strands of his hair falling in front of his greyish eyes.

"Hmmm. And what is it that you want," he lifted his free hand to bring it to Draco's cheek, never breaking the eye contact, "my Love?"

-*-

Now or never.

Draco didn't know how to phrase his wish without sounding mundane. Should he really do it? There would be other times...

_I want it NOW._

His father had just laid his soul before him, no reason he should feel ashamed. He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, and hated himself for that.

_Malfoys. Do. Not. Stammer._

Suddenly a thought came to him.

_Not like Father hasn't heard me ask him obscene things before. And he is quite fond of it, actually..._

He smiled a sweet smile, confidence restored. It was only a simple request, after all.

"Can I take you?"

-*-

_Whoa._

Lucius' smile widened considerably. He did not dislike the idea at all. He felt so happy at having it back, what he and Draco had, having his son speak obscenities to him again. He had missed it so damn much...

"If it'll please you... for myself I say only that the very idea is one hell of a turn on."  
Draco flashed him a brilliant smile.  
"We do it now then?"  
"I don't see why not." Arched eyebrows, a serpentine smile. "In fact, I can see a rather good reason rising," he slid his hand down his son's body to grab hold of Draco's erection, "right here."

He felt his son tremble at his touch, and fingered the sensitive member, then brushed his digits against the soft-hair covered balls.

"Aw, Father."

It was a needy moan. All of Lucius' previous worries were gone, the same way his reason always flew out of the window whenever he heard his son moan, caught sight of the parted lips, the naked, perfect body.

He looked up at Draco.

"I could kiss every inch of you if you asked me to. Do you want it, Draco?"

-*-

It was hard to focus.

One touch of his and everything is a blur. What do I want? That you never, ever stop doing this again.

One slender finger was now tracing circles on the head of his cock teasingly, and Draco couldn't really think straight. Thus he didn't answer his father.

"Tell me, dear... what do you want?"

Something came to the front among the mess that were Draco's thoughts.

"You."  
"As I said before, the idea... the very idea of you taking-"  
"Fucking." Draco corrected his father, eyes half closed, relieving in the touch of the hand that had never left his member.  
" -Fucking- me." Lucius paused for a moment and Draco knew that he was savouring the words, and couldn't help but smile at that. The elder Malfoy went on. "It's one hell of a turn on."

Draco could hardly believe his ears. He had dreamed of being made love to by his father but this - this was something else.

Those thoughts were joined by far less pure ones when his father's hand finally cupped his cock properly, for it had restrained to caressing before. He let out a small moan when thoughts, sensations and passions filled up his head, suffocating, enveloping, until he was drowning on them. He knew no way out of that sudden wave of pleasure that had overcome him, and neither did he want to get out. He wanted to stay like that, with the feel of Lucius' hands on him, the loving eyes burning on his soul, for even though he had thrown his head back and was now half-laying on his back, supporting himself on his elbows he could feel those eyes. He wanted to lay like that for eternity.

Lost in the blur, Draco reached out to touch his father, and at the same time his other arm gave out and he fell against the cool silk sheets. The faint grip he had managed on Lucius' forearm tightened as he fell, and he closed his eyes to concentrate better on the feel. The feel of his father's hand leaving its caressing spot, the feel of Lucius reaching and grabbing the mattress, pulling himself up and turning so that he now laid on top of his son, going up and up in a serpentine movement until their heads were levelled. Draco felt the hot breath against his face, the sensation registering along with millions of others, the feel of his father against him, Lucius' re-hardening member against his own stiff one, legs entangled.

Draco loosened his grip on his father's forearm to encircle the other man's neck, dragging himself back to real world that held sensations so much better than dreamland, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling through long lashes. Lips parted, he couldn't help but gasp at the feel of a warm, teasing tongue on his ear.

"Draco..."

He felt Lucius pulling back from his licking occupation to stare down at him. Cobalt grey met cobalt grey, pupils dilated due to arousal, iris shiny due to a fair mixture of desire and love.  
Draco found himself unable to speak so be blinked.

"Tell me, son..."  
One of Lucius' hands tucked a strand of sweat-wet hair behind Draco's ear, as was his habit of buying time while searching for words. But Draco knew nothing of that. On that moment, he knew only about the electricity of his father's touch.  
"Do you really enjoy this?"  
Draco nodded quickly, anything to go on, to change that teasing friction of bodies into something else, something stronger.  
Lucius, however, didn't seem satisfied with that response.  
"I've asked you an important question, Beautiful." He leaned down and pressed his lips against Draco's softly, then pulled back to once again pierce his son's soul with his gaze. "And I am waiting for a sincere answer."  
Draco opened his mouth, but no sound would come out of it. He choked softly and silently, the only indication that something was happening were his arms stiffening around his father's neck. In one last gasp, he found his voice again, although it was somewhat throaty.  
"I do, Father. I treasure this, I need you... more than anything."  
Lucius smiled.  
"Why, Draco?"

Only then did Draco realise what was it that his father wanted him to say, what did the man need to achieve peace and feel pleasure.

Nothing but the plain truth.

"I love you, Lucius... as a son and as a lover... and our love isn't dirty."

Lucius' mouth widened in the most brilliant smile, and Draco felt an urge to pull his father down and kiss him. So he did, sneaking his tongue on his father's mouth, tasting, him, welcoming him, sharing that happiness that he had seen on his beloved's face. That was what he aimed for, that smile, that one smile showing him how true it was, what they had, and just how much his father needed it.

As much as I myself need it.

Lucius' mouth left his and kissed the tip of his nose playfully, then moved back to the sensitive skin on the neck, a wet tongue running there and Draco was now panting, he knew what was to come and the craved it, the warm tongue on his ear, the velvet voice whispering things, loving things, dirty things, all things he had always wanted to hear.

That night, however, Lucius' talking resumed to one simple sentence.

"Make love to me, son."

-*-

Lucius pulled back to enjoy the effects of his request on his son's face. He was rewarded with a feral smile.

"My pleasure."

And then it was Draco's mouth on his, the slightly small hands running down his back, scratching it for kicks. Lucius knew that his son had a penchant for the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure, so he followed the trend and leaned down to bite the lobule, sucking a bit. Those scars would stay on his back for a few weeks, when he'd have Draco making others, and others and others and he, Lucius, would rip his shirt off on public and show them, scream to the world that he loved his son, that they made love and that he was proud of it.

His musings were interrupted by the feel of one of Draco's skilled hands caressing his balls. Lucius groaned. He had always had a particular sensibility on that area, and coincidentally Draco had it too. It caused the youth to know exactly where and how to touch, to rub, to sometimes tenderly dig his nails into the soft skin just a bit, for the sake of that small pain that would make Lucius scream.  
As he found himself doing on his present situation.

-*-

Draco wished he could somehow bottle his father's scream so that he'd be able to keep it forever.

He relaxed his the pressure of his hands and as soon as the scream ceased he took Lucius' mouth on a tantalising long kiss. He pressed his lips hungrily against his lover's, burying his hand in the mass of silver hair, nipping on the lower lip. His hands travelled about the other body, that body so much like his own. It was like looking in a mirror, like jerking off. But infinitely better, because your mirrored image would hold you for the rest of the night and stare up at you with adoring eyes for the rest of your life.

He then dropped small kisses all along the high cheekbone until he was near the ear, where he whispered.

"Father..."  
"Hmm?"  
Lucius' hands were busy sneaking their way on his body too, and seemed to be everywhere with their fiery touch. The young Malfoy couldn't help but jerk forward at the feel of that familiar erection rising to brush head-to-head with his own, to spill lubricating juices on his testicles.  
"Want me..." He was panting, he noticed. "Want me to... lubricate you before we... do it?"  
As Draco said that his hand was tracing teasing circles on his father's lower back, on that point in the end of the spine from where every sensation was sent for the whole body.  
"I'd rather have you telling me, Draco."  
"What?"  
"What would you do,"

One of Lucius' hands found Draco's face and was now cupping it, "To me."

Draco chuckled. He should have known.

Lucius was very... fond of words. They were his to play, and he could do wonders with them, build visions, although these were somewhat fragile, like card castles. But they also had amazing powers over him. They could sadden him, bring him joy... and words, like no other thing, could turn Lucius Malfoy on.  
Draco made his voice a purr.

"I'd slid one finger inside you... ever so slowly... how would you like that?"  
"Ahn... I'd love it... Beautiful."

Draco pulled back from the whispering occupation to nuzzle at his love's neck, as he parted his father's cheeks and sneaked a finger inside the puckered hole there, very carefully. He all but felt Lucius' vocal strings tremble against his tongue as the elder Malfoy let out a growl and threw his head back. Draco took this opportunity to sink his teeth in his father's neck, just enough to leave a mark. A mark of that night, a night of opening and giving. A night of love...

His other hand supported his father's head, for both were laying on their sides now, and he pulled Lucius closer, giving him a quick peck on the lips. He felt his father inch closer, their bodies now glued and indistinguishable. Some time along their friction Lucius had found a way to get rid of his shirt, and now both Malfoys lay naked in the bed.

Draco's cock found its way between his Lucius' hips, and the youth slid another finger inside his father. He moved the two about a bit, in circles, testing the muscles as well as his father's reactions, which were the whole point of it all.  
He felt Lucius rock back against his fingers, and all the time he was watching his father's face, drinking in the pleasure displayed there, feasting on the moans that would, on occasion, leave those lips. Draco never thought about the fact that he too was panting and sweating and moaning.

Feeling Lucius' erection pressed firmly against his belly, Draco was reassured that his father got pleasure from that. But simply knowing it was not enough, feeling it was not enough. He wanted to hear it.

I'm so like him.

This didn't bother Draco at all. He pulled back to stare in his father's eyes.

"Father... How does it feel?"  
"Your fingers?"  
Lucius asked with a smile.  
"Mm-mm."  
"Arousing."

-*-

Lucius leaned forward to plant a kiss on Draco's sweat-covered forehead. He hadn't lied, it did feel arousing, it did feel good. The very idea of him and Draco together again turned him on, and this new situation made it all the more exciting.

"Not that. I mean... me."  
Lucius had been busy rocking back against the fingers when that question was fired.  
"Uh.. you feel... ah, ah, ah! You feel good, my Draco... ever so good."

-*-

Draco smiled. Those frantic little moans were the response he got for pulling his fingers out. It was time for other things. His own member was pulsating with need, requiring relief soon. He once more pressed his lips against his father's.

"I love you, Father."  
He nuzzled on Lucius' ear a little before speaking again.  
"Are you ready?"

"It's taken you too long already."

Draco smiled as he used both hands so push Lucius so that his father would be laying on his back, and then guided himself in, not able to hold a gasp as he did.

Draco was surprised to find out that his father was actually...

Tight as a virgin.

He had thought that two fingers would make enough room. Apparently he had been mistaken. But he enjoyed the tightness, and so he pushed further, although slowly, careful not to hurt his father.

What an enticing thought, me going slowly not to hurt him.

Draco had his head lowered, some strands of hair brushing against his father's chest and chin.

"Draco Lucifer Malfoy."  
Lucius didn't sound too happy, nor did he look so, as Draco found out when he lifted his face.  
"Am... am I hurting you, Father?"  
He pulled himself until he was almost out, and only after he talked did he realise how concerned he sounded.  
"Slip back in or I'll bruise you badly."

Draco chuckled and eased himself back in. This was the Lucius he knew and loved.

As he did that his father's hand sneaked behind his head, pulling him down to a wanting kiss to which Draco responded. The feel of his father's stiffened member against his belly only increased his desire and therefore made his thrusts quicker.

"Son..."  
"Yes Father?"  
Draco opened his eyes to stare at his father's smirking face.  
"Take your time. Make it pleasing. Will you?"

-*-

Lucius' hand cupped his son's face. A face that displayed confusion.  
He laughed.

"Or not. But if you're gonna be quick, Draco... then make it remarkable."  
Draco smiled.  
"Harder.." pause, as if searching for appropriate words. He seemed to find the perfect one, and let out a purr, "Lucius?"  
"Yeah."  
Lucius' back arched in response to his son's thrust, and he bucked up. Oh yes. Nice one. What was he thinking when he referred to his son as soft and fragile?

He discovered that he liked this side of Draco, that he enjoyed seeing his son lose a bit of his cool, angelic attitude. It was like when Draco would whisper 'fuck me father' at his ear.  
Maybe Draco too liked that. It wouldn't hurt to find out... He leaned up to whisper at his son's ear.

"Fuck me, Draco... harder... Ah!"  
Lucius screamed when his wish was granted. And he continued letting out small, rhythmic screams as the pace to his son's thrusting got quicker and quicker.  
"Love me, Lucius..."  
Draco sounded like he was about to cry as he sunk his nails on his father's forearms, coming inside his beloved.

Lucius' head jerked back and he could utter no sound as he felt his son coming inside of him, the hotness filling him. His arms tightened the grip he had on Draco, pulling him closer, feeling the familiar sensation of his son's head resting against his chest, which was going up and down with his fastened and heavy breathing.

He too came, although silently. He bit his lower lip and squeezed his eyes shut as he climaxed for the second time that night. He held on tight on the creature responsible for that, held on that lithe body, held onto his boy.

He felt Draco easing himself out of him, but still didn't let go. He didn't want to, ever again.

-*-

Draco had his eyes shut. He was content with listening, to his and his father's heavy breathing. He tried to adjust himself to Lucius' rhythm, as he always did. Until their hearts would beat in unison. He was concentrating on that when he felt a hand ruffling his hair.

"Thank you, Draco."

What were those thanks owed to, Draco wondered. Him giving back to his father proper notion of their relationship? Him making love to his father? Him utterly, desperately, endlessly and unconditionally loving Lucius? Draco decided for the latest, which included the other two, and just clung more to his father's chest, breathing in happily.

"You're forever welcome, Father."  
He let out in a sleepy whisper. And he meant it.

-*-

Lucius felt his heart squeezing as his son embraced him more tightly, clinging to him the way he did when he was a baby. Lucius held onto him. His son, his baby boy, his lover.  
There was nothing that made him feel better than sharing that love.

And it was not, in any way, dirty. It was as pure as unicorn blood, and every bit as beautiful as the youth that was clinging to him, safely asleep in his arms.

Lucius nuzzled on his son's hair. He was so happy that Draco was his, and even more, that Draco enjoyed being his and would fight for it.  
He too would fight to keep his son, he thought. He'd fight the Ministry, Voldemort and whoever chose to come between them. With the aid of Draco, he had already beaten the biggest of enemies...

The greatest reason had never belonged to outsiders, it had laid within Lucius' very heart. It had been the guilt, a poisoned little dagger in his soul.

_King of Spades..._

And it had taken Draco to remove it, to heal his wound with loving kisses. Draco, the unique creature with whom Lucius shared his blood and his heart.

_Ace of Hearts._

A lucky hand he had had, and he'd hold onto it forever. Now that he knew his and Draco's relationship for what it was, they'd never be apart again.

_Never again._

Lucius sworn silently to himself, kissing his son's forehead and still holding onto him. He didn't intend to let go ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hmmm... end?? Guess it was high time already.. this one was way too long... but I still want to hear your thoughts on it!


End file.
